Play-Doh vs. Plato

I don't know when this blog became my "confessional" of sorts, but it seems as though there are some things that I just can't keep to myself. To be fair, you're not really getting any of the "good stuff" when I confess - just little perturbing peculiarities that plague my days.  For example:

I do not like fast food.  There are some things that I enjoy eating, but as a general rule, I do not feel good before I eat it, nor after.  Furthermore, the satisfaction I experience while consuming it does not come close to matching how I feel when I eat things I really love, like edamame, Dubliner Irish Cheese, Pita Chips, lattes, etc.  There comes a time, however, when it is incumbent upon me to acknowledge that I crave certain things that I don't particularly love.  Case in point: McDonald's French Fries.  I've been told that they were my first solid food, so I'm currently working on a theory that draws a connection between a tangible link to my post-infancy state and the preparation of my body to carry a child.  Simply: when I want babies I want fries because I ate 'em when I was a baby.  Curiously enough there is no such correlation to explain why I need ice cream - most perplexing.  

So, my body has been readying itself to experience the wonder of procreation over the past few days - and although I keep explaining to it that there exists no immanent hope of fulfilling that expectation, it refuses to take a merciful sabbatical from its cyclical course.  Which means that tonight, on the way home from a 12-hour work day, I stopped and got McDonald's French Fries.  I did not finish them, and I already feel mildly sick, but the deed is done.  For shame, says you... and I agree - what a sad way to live... which brings me to my next point.

As I was getting ready for work 13 hours ago, I was reading through some interesting BBC News articles and ran across this one: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/7767877.stm  I could summarize for you, but I think you should probably get the full effect of the article for yourself.  Please follow the link and read before continuing.

Okay?  Now that you've read, know this: I am ridiculously attracted to intelligence.  I've been fond of some awfully strange looking men and found myself desiring them based solely upon their intellectual prowess.  It's a curse, but I've come to accept it.  Then this article happens to be written and suddenly the world makes sense!  Biologically, we tend to be most drawn to those who will be the most efficient/successful propagators of the species... Intelligent men who have better quality swimmers are (contrary to the article's conclusions) likely to be more successful breeding partners.  Additionally, men who possess such distinguishable mental acuity will ALSO be more likely to be adept at talking me down from my french fry precipice!  What a phenomenal find this is - Smart men will turn me off of french fries and give me babies.  Bad hermeneutics aside, I think we can color this mystery solved.  Until soon...